


Heels First

by Moons_and_Roses



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Crack, Dreams, High Heels, Humor, M/M, Prideshipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 07:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9809516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moons_and_Roses/pseuds/Moons_and_Roses
Summary: Kaiba duels Yugi in an arena hauntingly similar to the arena at Battle City –  but not all is as it seems. And there's unusual footwear involved. Yami Yugi/Kaiba Seto. CRACK. Oneshot.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Rated T for language. Unbeta'd.
> 
> I am slowly working through both manga and anime for the first time (and I've watched Yu-Gi-Oh! Abridged too many times). This fic meshes names, phrases, and concepts from both the subbed and dubbed anime. It's weird, but I hope it works.
> 
> Kaiba and Ishizu (Trustshipping, right?) is my fave, but when [fan art like this](https://twitter.com/ZombieDaisuke/status/831681604032552964) exists . . . Prideshipping is inevitable. Do leave the artist a compliment on Twitter if you can. I want those heels SO BAD. So I'm writing about them instead.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!

Kaiba found himself standing in a dueling arena, alone with no memory of his journey there. He eyed the stone construct around him, which rose to the sun-obscuring clouds, something familiar tugging at his memory. After blinking a moment, he realized his surroundings echoed the Battle City arena, which he had designed to echo the Roman Coliseum.

In this arena, there were similar sweeping Greco-Roman pillars and arches all around. But the framework was accented with wood and clay, setting an austere, almost reverent mood. 

There were no stands or people around the arena, just a flat, round expanse of many-colored tiles stopping abruptly at the erected stone. Hieroglyphs, deep and shadowed, cut into every stone, wood, and clay surface. There were even hieroglyphic shapes depicted, mural-style, in the tiles beneath his boots.

Kaiba wanted to snort. It was bad enough that Pegasus's Millennium Eye and Yugi's Millennium Puzzle hinted – no, _bragged_ of ties to the ancient Egyptian occult. He half-expected to turn around and spy Bakura, Millennium Ring swinging from his neck, ready to offer a challenge. 

Instead, when he turned, Kaiba saw Yugi. Or, the taller version of him, anyway. He was about twenty paces away, leaning against a pillar, school uniform jacket ready to fall off his shoulders if he moved. He looked up from the tiles to eye Kaiba with patient anticipation.

“Kaiba,” Yugi called out to him. 

“Yugi.”

Yugi nodded to him, not quite deferential, but not quite dismissive, either. It was like his acknowledgment of his rival's existence. 

Kaiba really didn't understand Yugi at all. They were rivals, nobody was in denial of it. No need to act like they were sizing each other up for the first time. Yugi's reasoning had no reason. But what else could you expect from a duelist who still kept _Kuriboh_ in his deck? It was even more laughable than Wheeler's damn Scapegoats. 

Yugi pushed away from the pillar, somehow managing to keep his jacket draped haphazard across his shoulders, and slowly walked toward him. A subtle feline grace tempered his movements, like Yugi was prowling. 

Yugi never looked or moved like this before their previous duels, much less during normal settings. Obviously he was keyed up for a duel. Kaiba's lips twitched at the corners, giving in to a smirk after a moment. He was amused that Yugi needed to set aside his gentler personality in order to duel. Kaiba didn't have to alter his mood or stance one bit to take Yugi on, or anyone else.

“Shall we commence yet another rematch?” Yugi asked, smiling at Kaiba. “Oh, what am I even asking. Of course you want to duel me.”

Kaiba ignored his request. Duelists did not _request_. They _told_ other duelists what they wanted.

“I challenge you to a duel, Yugi!” Kaiba said. Somebody had to demonstrate the proper way to announce a duel was going to happen right here, right now.

Yugi's brow furrowed as he stepped forward to stand a few paces from Kaiba. Because Yugi still clung to his I-am-a-fricking-Pharaoh spiel, that was probably his We Are Not Amused look. 

“Must you always say it along those lines, Kaiba?” Yugi asked, his tone like that of a long-suffering parent. He even put a hand on one hip for a couple seconds, and Kaiba was suddenly very aware that Yugi's denim was different than usual – maroon and form-hugging and not at all schoolboy-ish. “Can't you, you know, shake things up a bit?” the self-proclaimed Pharaoh went on. “Try a different approach, change of pace?”

“None needed, Yugi.” Kaiba was further amused. Yugi was trying to act more grown up, finally. But Kaiba had been wearing form-hugging pants for years, since puberty, in fact. Maybe puberty had finally found its way to even pipsqueak Yugi Mutou. Kaiba might congratulate him after the duel, if his victory made him feel unusually even-tempered.

“I hope to change that opinion, after our duel,” said Yugi. “Very well, Kaiba. I accept your challenge. Duel disk, set!”

“Duel disk, set!” said Kaiba. He most certainly did _not_ throw out his arm or adjust his stance to cast his trailing white jacket a-ruffling for dramatic effect. Those things occasionally happened by pure coincidence.

Kaiba had high hopes that this duel would be _nothing_ like its predecessors. Save the use of his faithful Blue Eyes White Dragons, and Yugi's ever-present Dark Magician, that is.

He seethed with perturbation and fury when Yugi charted the outcome to waters unforeseen. The duel abruptly ended after play of a strange combination of trap cards, Yugi eventually finishing off Kaiba's remaining life points with Retrained Elf Swordsman, of all cards.

As usual, Kaiba couldn't fathom how he had lost, even though he had nearly committed each move of the duel itself to memory.

“I guess it's a lucky thing,” Yugi drawled, fingers of his right hand drumming against his duel disk arm, “that we're not obligated to give up cards upon defeat this time. Or I'd be taking a Blue Eyes White Dragon home to my grandfather today. Still think you don't need a new approach to dueling? Or at least, a new approach when it comes to me?”

Kaiba wasn't feeling up to smiling, but he smiled all the same at Yugi's inane comments. “You think you can keep a Blue Eyes White Dragon card while I'm still living, Yugi?”

Yugi's answering grin was wide. A glint entered his eyes that Kaiba didn't understand, but _definitely_ didn't like. “ _Finally_ , Kaiba, you're game for asking questions.”

“You're in the mood for questions today, Yugi?” said Kaiba. Then he realized he had phrased another question himself. Oh, well. Might as well play along, battles of wit didn't end with card games. “Is that why you _asked_ me to duel today?”

“Indeed, Kaiba. Indeed.”

“A duelist shouldn't _ask_ ,” said Kaiba, unable to contain his sneer. Yugi's dueling persona was clearly catching whatever softness that Yugi exhibited outside of playing Duel Monsters.

“If you insist, Kaiba,” said Yugi, and the glint in his eyes deepened, if that was possible.

And then to Kaiba's confusion, Yugi detached his dueling disk from his arm and tossed it through the air, spinning right for Kaiba's head.

Kaiba ducked, and the duel disk careened over his head. “What, you think that's a high-tech boomerang?!” Kaiba shouted. He wasn't sure whether he objected more to mistreatment of dueling equipment, or mistreatment of his own person . . . and pride. Wait, never mind, he definitely was more offended at the insult to his pride.

But then he found himself falling, and his pride fell with him. His back thudded against tile, but strangely, he felt no pain. Kaiba wondered if he had tripped on the trailing tail of his long jacket. Mokuba was always tripping over it, clingy and loyal as he was. Maybe Mokuba had shown up and accidentally tripped him? 

Kaiba shook his head and dismissed his theories. This had to be a dream, what with the absence of pain. And what with losing to Yugi . . . _again_. If it were reality, he would've won. Well, as Kaiba thought further, he should have won this dream-duel as well, since he had dreamed of defeating Yugi a thousand times before.

A casual look-around assured Kaiba that no one besides him and Yugi were there—and then he saw Yugi walking up to him.

Before he could heave himself up from his prone position on the ground, Yugi placed a foot upon Kaiba's chest.

A foot adorned with studs and straps on _heels_.

Kaiba could have _sworn_ Yugi had not been wearing heels just seconds before. He was convinced now, _definitely a dream_.There was no version of reality in which Yugi would randomly switch to heels and promptly stamp tread-marks over Kaiba's heart. Yugi might be overly fond of leather and buckles, but even _he_ had his limits, Kaiba was sure.

Large pieces of confetti started falling softly, like snow, all around them. Kaiba blinked, and realized he was wrong. Not confetti – _trading cards_.

“Yugi, what the hell is going on?” he growled, glaring up at his rival.

“I've been waiting for you to ask me that particular question, actually,” Yugi said, looking quite content.

“Where are these Duel Monsters cards even _coming_ from?” Kaiba persisted, glancing up at the clouds, before looking back accusingly at Yugi.

Yugi leaned his weight on one arm slung over his thigh, and pressure increased on Kaiba's chest. Still, no pain bloomed at his heart from contact of the heel. Yugi looked down upon him, plucked a card from his desk and held it lazily between forefinger and middle finger, and smirked. Was that some twisted, misguided fondness Kaiba saw in his eyes?!

“Kaiba. Even your questions are too demanding,” he said. “But if you must have an explanation to this scenario: I am the _King_ of Games. I believe in the _heart_ of the cards. Anything is possible. Learn to accept that. Then you won't be this awkward in accepting my attentions.”

Kaiba stared up at him, wondering exactly when his rival had gone mad. “What the hell does that even mean. Can I wake up now?”

“No, you can't,” said Yugi, voice firm. “I have my eye on you, Kaiba. Return the favor. I deserve no less, you know.”

“I don't know what you're talking about,” said Kaiba. He only half-heard Yugi's words—he was preoccupied with _why_ his body seemed content to stay lying like this beneath Yugi's heel-clad foot.

“Then why haven't you stormed off yet?” Yugi asked, slanting his head to the side. His gaze only seemed to intensify.

“You're the intruder to _my_ dream. You leave.”

“Why? I orchestrated this dream myself to reach out to you.” Yugi clucked his tongue and shook his head, in the same way he did when Wheeler was being a numbskull.

Kaiba crossed his arms over his chest, dislodging Yugi's foot. “What, are you King of Dreams now, too?”

Yugi chuckled low in his throat. But it was nothing like the way he would laugh at Wheeler. “Do you want me to be?” His voice was hushed, as if speaking normally would break a spell. “That's the real question, isn't it?”

Kaiba's vision grew fuzzy as he threw his arms to his sides, rocketing first to a sitting position, then to his feet. This dream was getting weirder and weirder.

“Get out, Yugi. You've overstayed your nonexistent welcome,” he ground out, turning aside abruptly. He could feel the sway of the trailing hems of his jacket, lashing behind him much like a the tail of a Blue Eyes.

“You're mad I waltzed into your dream _without asking_?” Yugi's voice was confident and mocking behind him. Heels clicked against tiles, and Yugi was standing in front of him again, hand on the other hip now. “But you said duelist don't ask.”

“This dream needs to end now. I have an early morning meeting,” said Kaiba. He was half-telling the truth, but only half. Yugi didn't need to know he rose every morning at the crack of dawn and always had plenty of time to prepare.

Thanks to Kaiba's height, Yugi was looking up at him now, not looking down. Even the heels couldn't change that. This made the universe feel slightly less off-kilter to Kaiba. 

“If you must,” said Yugi. Kaiba could have sworn he wrinkled his nose the way schoolboy Yugi was apt to do. “I'll see you tonight, same time and place, and you can tell me if you want me to be King of Dreams then.”

And Yugi reached forward and pinched Kaiba's arm, right above his dueling disk.

* * *

Kaiba sat up in his king-sized bed, nerves sizzling as if he'd just woken to an electric shock.

“ _Nii-sama_!” Kaiba turned to stare blearily to his right, where Mokuba stood in his pajamas – at least, it looked like his pajamas. His vision wasn't fully cleared yet. “Are you alright? You were tossing and turning.”

“I'm fine, Mokuba,” said Kaiba, glancing behind Mokuba to spy his alarm clock, glowing red with unwelcome numbers. 03:45. He felt cold sweat breaking out on his skin – he'd have to go _back to sleep_ if he wanted to be well-rested for a long workday tomorrow. “I'm . . . I didn't mean to wake you. Go back to sleep.”

“But you had a nightmare, Seto,” said Mokuba. Kaiba blinked, and Mokuba's features sharpened. His lip was doing the wobble-thing that Kaiba hated to see. “And now I'm thinking about nightmares, and now I _know_ I will have a nightmare if I sleep.”

Kaiba sighed. He knew what was coming, and reached across the pillows.

“Can I sleep with you, Seto?”

There it was. Keeping a grumble in check, Kaiba grasped the Blue Eyes White Dragon plushie that perched on the extra pillow. He kept it for just such an occasion with sleep-deprived Mokuba. _Strictly_ for Mokuba.  
“Take it back to your room. That should suffice.”

Mokuba's arms wrapped around the plushie like a vice. “Can't Blueberry and I stay with you? Blueberry gets scared without you too, Seto!”

At this rate, neither of them would get any sleep. With a long-suffering sigh, Kaiba threw aside a corner of the coverlet (blue, naturally) and shifted out of the center of the bed.

Mokuba burrowed next to him, Blueberry still in the crook of his arm, before Kaiba could even tell Mokuba this was a one-time instance.

Kaiba tucked the coverlet around his younger brother and sank back against the pillows. He couldn't wait for Mokuba to finally enter a long-overdue growth spurt. It was would be so much easier to ignore him once he stopped being so small and vulnerable.

“Good night, _Nii-sama_.”

Kaiba hummed noncommittally and closed his eyes. Sleep yanked him down faster than anticipated, and he dreamed of every day tasks in his role as ruler – yes, _ruler_ – of Kaiba Corp. Not a sign of any self-proclaimed kings with hair in a perpetual stage of fright, maroon denim, and studded heels.

Kaiba woke up to his alarm at 05:00, perfectly rested, and oddly . . . disappointed. Mokuba, also apparently nightmare-free, thanked and hugged him before Kaiba could object, and ran laughing out of the room with Blueberry.

* * *

Halfway through his early morning meeting, Kaiba had dismissed his strange dream as meaningless and irrelevant.

Halfway through his following meeting, a timorous page sidled over to him and slipped a note next to his hand on the table, before bobbing a quick bow and vanishing. Kaiba squinted a little in disapproval. Hieroglyphics were scratched across the front, and below them, his name in Roman script.

He opened it, mien casual, as if it were a business correspondence.

_Kaiba,_

_Since I know you are fond of random things themed after Blue Eyes White Dragon, I've left an apologetic offering in your office, courtesy of the page. If you tell me I'm unwelcome in your dreams tonight, I will never enter your dreams unasked again._

_I hope you don't think it superfluous because you are already tall._

_Yours sincerely,  
the Pharaoh_

Since this second meeting was unimportant, Kaiba abruptly left it, white jacket billowing behind him. The elevators never seemed so slow. He would have called up a team of designers and technicians and yelled at them to figure out a way to make the elevators faster, but that would have delayed him.

Instead he waited until he finally crossed the threshold of his office door and spied –

No.

This was a dream again. This wasn't reality. There was _no_ version of reality in which –

Kaiba pinched himself, _hard_.

But he still saw a pair of goddamn Blue Eyes White Dragon high heels on his desk.

**Author's Note:**

> Oops, I nearly stole from Yuri!!! on Ice and had Yugi tell Kaiba _don't take your eyes off me_. That show creeps into your very soul, man.
> 
> Also, what with Yami Yugi being able to manipulate shadow games, crush minds, and ruin lives in general, I figured it wasn't too crazy to assume he can walk into people's dreams. Especially people who are obsessed with Yugi anyway. ;)
> 
> And Kaiba definitely needs some sweet heels to compliment his Blue Eyes White Dragon boxers, Blue Eyes White Dragon pencil sharpeners, and Blue Eyes White Dragon shower curtains. That boy collects whole buildings full of merch with more speed than the best of us fangirls and fanboys, nobody can tell me different.


End file.
